


The Harm You Cause Yourself

by phantomofthewinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, My First Destiel Fanfic, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Protective Bobby Singer, Self-Harm, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:45:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2756657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomofthewinchester/pseuds/phantomofthewinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finds himself struggling with his feelings. No chick flick moments. Ever since a hunt went wrong, when he was younger, he found a way to deal with his pain. This fic will jump between the past and the present in the chapters. The past focusing on Dean when he was a teenager. John is an abusive father, he hits dean. Eventual Destiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings. John beats Dean. Dean Self-harms. Please do not read if you find this triggering!
> 
> Dean's thoughts are in italics.

He convinced himself that it was only a one time thing. The sweet release as he drew the blade across his skin, the ruby droplets spilling out; expelling his thoughts and feelings. They always wear long sleeves anyway. Dean always gets up and dressed before Sammy anyway. Someone had to make sure they were both up and presentable for their dad to give them their hunting details. Each scar left on his arm he could name the reasoning behind them, most of them named John. Dean could remember the exact moment that lead to this habit of his.

It was on a hunt, 'piece of cake' according to John. Werewolves. It all happened so fast – They caught Sam.

'What do you mean they got him, Dean?' John shouted. 'You had one fucking job! Take care of your brother!'

The strike to his face came quickly, the cold air making the pain sharp. He knew he deserved it, he failed at his only task in life and now his little brother, his Sammy, is in danger.

John grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the motel. The pressure was just hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises on his upper arm. Dean would always remember that the pain across his face and the pressure of his dad's hand helped to relieve his guilt. He deserved this.

The silence in the car was intense, John had purposely turned the music off and made Dean sit in the back. Dean stared out of the window watching the trees race by, his mind filled with worrying thoughts. He kept applying pressure to his arm where John had gripped him, the slight pain keeping him from going into a panic. John came to a stop outside of an abandoned warehouse, where the pack of wolves were clued to be hiding.

'I am sorry I hit you Dean. My temper got the better of me.' John said gently as he turned in the seat. 'Now stay here, I have heard that there are a few werewolves in here. Hopefully they only have Sam as a hostage.'

'No. Wai –'

'I'm serious, stay here! Don't make me tell you a third time'. 

Dean slumped back into his seat in a mini sulk. He knew that he would have just gotten in the way if he tried to help and would further endanger Sam's life. The minutes were drawing by really slowly and there was no sign of his dad or brother. It shouldn't be taking him this long Dean kept thinking to himself. _Why is it taking so long? What if the situation was way worse than we initially though? Have I killed my brother. Not Sammy._ He couldn't live without his little brother. His breathing was getting more rapid and uncontrollable.

BANG! The sound of John's gun shot through the silence and penetrated Dean's ears. It was the silence that followed that made Dean's heart race. _Oh my God. What happened? Why aren't they running out to the car already? Where are they?_ Dean's mind was racing at the same speed as his heart.

After 10 minutes of the agonising wait he reached for the handle of the Impala and started to leave its safety. He halted. Should he disobey his father again? He started to get back into the car. _Dammit! What should I do? What would Dad do if I leave the car? Will I mess up?_ A million thoughts flashed through his mind, but the one thought that rang clearly was that anything was worth the risk to save his brother.

'Ah screw it' Dean exclaimed as he wrenched the door back open and began to sprint towards the warehouse. _Get a weapon you ass._ It was too late, he was already at the entrance. Rookie mistake. As he ran inside everything seemed to happen at once. Sam was there, lying at the opposite side to the building. Another body was lying to his right, it was too dimly lit for Dean to be sure that it wasn't John. The sharp pain to the back of his head had come too suddenly for him to register what was going on. The lights faded before he reached the ground.

_Where is Sammy? Have I messed everything up again?_ These were just a few of the thoughts that started to collect in Dean's mind.

'S – Sam...Sammy?' The drawling, slurred speech did not sound like his own.

'Oh no. He isn't here. It's just you and me kid. Some quality time.' The voice sounded close. Very close. It sounded gravely and deep. Clearly male.

'Where am I?' Dean's voice came out croaky, the pain from the blow to his head becoming more apparent as he regained consciousness.

'I could hear you outside you know, waiting for dear old dad and little...Sammy? Was it? I knew you would rush in if you heard a gun shot. Of course daddy dearest thought you would stay outside. Clearly he doesn't care about you, Dean, is it? He ran on out here with the little one as soon as you caused the distraction. I wouldn't worry too much, I sent my two girls on the job after them.'

Enough with the monologuing Dean would have liked to have said. Too many things came to his pounding head. _Did dad really drive away and leave me here? Did I mess up so badly that he would rather loose me than have me as a failure?_ It was dark. Really dark. Was he blindfolded? He tried to move his arms. They were bound to the chair, along with his legs. Well this certainly is a sticky situation you have gotten yourself into Dean.

'Alright. I didn't ask for your life story. Just our location'. He wasn't quite sure why he felt that this was the best response to go with. But he went with it and it was a mistake.

'You little shit.' The voice sounded more than angry. It was almost a snarl.

'Why do you care anyway? What did we do?' Stupid question but Dean just wanted to make sure he did not get hit again. _Just make him keep talking, keep the creep away._

'Are you kidding? You're a hunter. Did you need to ask?'

'Just thought you would start monologuing long enough for me to escape.' _I am an idiot, why say that? Really Dean?_

'I hope you don't taste as shitty as your crappy attitude.' The voice chuckled. It was not a comforting sound. 'I was just going to rip your heart out and eat it. But I think I will take my time. Enjoy the taste of your blood. Besides I would really enjoy watching you suffer.'

Panic started to rise in Dean's mind. He didn't want to die here. He can't leave Sammy alone. The blindfold was ripped from his head. It was at that moment that he realised he had started to cry. Why now? Don't show weakness. That's the one rule. He slowly looked up into the eyes of what could be his murderer. It was horrible, he almost looked rabid.

'That sounds like a very vampiristic thing to do. Drink my blood. Didn't think that was doggy style?' He couldn't keep the shake out of his voice.

'I don't like to live to stereotypes. Who says a wolf can't take the time with their meal? Maybe I will set a new trend.' As he spoke he stroked Dean's right cheek with his index finger. Dean found it impossible to keep his expression neutral; the disgust clearly visible.

'Well, you know what they say. Every dog has it's day.' _These had better not be my last words. I am not going out on a rhyme._

He snarled as he tore the sleeve off of Dean's plaid shirt. Using what looked to be broken glass from the floor of the warehouse he slashed into Dean's forearm. The scream had left Dean's lips before he had the control to stop it. He was violently shaking now. He kept his head down to hide his tears. He felt the warmth of the werewolf's mouth wrap round the wound. It was an unexplainable unpleasant feeling. He tried to struggle. He felt weak. The wound was deep and he was loosing blood at an accelerated speed. Dean opened his eyes and looked forwards. His vision blurred. 

_I can't believe I am going to die here. At least I can see mom again._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again Dean self harms in this fic so please don't read if it is triggering, I don't want that. And John is a major arse in this chapter, but he was kinda an arse in the series too.

'DEAN........DEAN'

 _I know that voice. Why am I hearing this voice?_

He could feel hands on his face. A thumb wiped away the tears and blood that were streaming down his face. Dean slowly opened his eyes. Vision blurred. John's face slowly came into focus, the fear and worry etched across it. _Why is he here? I thought he got away. He does care._ He could feel a fresh tear fall down his face. He hated himself for showing so much weakness, especially in front of his father. 

'Dean, stay with me son. I'm going to get you out of here. Don't worry.' His voice sounded anxious. 

John started to cut away the ropes that had bound his son to the chair. Once he was free, Dean threw his arms around Johns neck. 

'I'm sorry Dad, I am so sorry! I messed everything up.' Dean sobbed, his voice shaken and unlike his usual self. 'Where is Sammy? Is he safe?' As soon as he asked the question he slumped forwards unconscious.

He awoke on the back seat of the Impala with John's jacket covering him like a blanket, the reality that he might have died hit him full force. He sat up with a start, which was a mistake. The need to throw up came as quickly as John had pulled to a stop. Dean wrenched the door open and emptied anything that was left in his stomach. His dad rushed out of the car to catch Dean before he collapsed again.

The makeshift bandages over the deep cuts were failing. The cuts on his face and legs had stopped bleeding, they were not deep cuts but there were many. The cut on his arm and the slash across his chest were causing the most problems, they had bled through the bandages. John had hoped that it wouldn't have come to taking him to a hospital, it would raise too many questions, but it was the only way to save deans life. 

When Dean awoke he found himself staring at a pristinely white ceiling. _Oh God did I actually die? Is heaven really a thing? Huh I thought it would look a lot more cloudy and pearly white. This looks unfriendly. Shit. I'm in Hell, aren't I?_

'Dean!'

He knew that voice. It immediately brought him joy to to hear it. Although it did not sound like it's usual self, where was the carefree tone? _I hope I am not in Hell, he doesn't deserve to be here_. Dean tried to sit up but was soon stopped by the pain rippling down his body. Sam had jumped on him in a crushing hug, Dean was unable to stop the slight scream of pain.

'Sam, get down! Bobby can you take him and go get him some food? I need to talk to Dean, alone.' The voice of John seemed to have forced Dean to come round quicker than anything else. Dean didn't like the though of being left alone with his father. He didn't want to hear how much of a disappointment he is. He reached up to pull the oxygen mask away from his face and attempted to sit up straight.

'How are you feeling, Dean?' His voice was oddly soothing, was this the calm before the storm?

'I'm fine' lied Dean. He wasn't fine, not in the slightest. But he had to say what his father wanted to hear. 'What happened?'

'When you came into the Warehouse I grabbed Sammy and ran towards you. But I had two dogs on my tail and I had to get Sam to safety.' John was breathing heavily, clearly trying to keep his voice level. 'I put Sam in the Impala and managed to kill one of them but it took longer to kill the last one.'

'I'm sorry Dad, I messed everyt –'

'I-I thought I had lost you! Why did you leave the car? I specifically told you to stay put!' _Here it comes_ John's voice had lost all traces of trying to remain calm and was rapidly rising towards anger. 'Look where it got you. I give you these orders for a reason. To protect you!' He rose his hand and Dean flinched, he was in enough pain and didn't want his dad to inflict any more. Bobby walked in at this moment and dragged John out of the room. Dean could hear Bobby shouting at John, but couldn't make out what was said exactly.

'You okay, Son?' Bobby re-entered the room and slowly walked toward the bed. He didn't have to wait for Dean to lie, the distinct torment visible in his eyes. 'I'm going to take you back to mine so you can recover somewhere outside of this unpleasant hell-hole' The sincere smile that followed forced Dean to turn his head away and blink back the unwanted tears.

'Where is Sam?' his asked.

'Yer Dad is driving him to mine whilst I discharge you.'

'Wait. Why aren't there any police? I would have thought they would be all over this?' 

'It's taken care of. Now I will get the nurse to unhook you from these machines and we can get on the road.' Bobby left the room fairly quickly, he didn't want to waste much time here and leave Sam alone with John. 

A nurse came into the room with that horribly false smile and patronising look about her. 'Now young man lets get you away from these and then I will show you how to redress your bandages, once you get home.' Her voice was quite musical as she spoke, she obviously had worked with children in hospital for a long time. 

The journey to Bobby's was fairly silent. Dean slept for over half of the journey. As they pulled up outside of the house, Bobby turned to Dean and said 'Now, when you get inside I want you to go straight upstairs to bed. Strictly speaking we shouldn't have taken you out of the hospital yet.' Dean started to argue that he wanted to see Sam first but thought better of it. He was actually feeling very tired.

Once inside, Dean had gotten his initial wish of wanting to see Sam before bed as he was waiting for him in the bedroom. A goofy grin spread across Sam's face as Dean opened the door. He ran at Dean for a hug but stopped short.

'what's wrong Sammy?' Dean asked a bit shocked that Sam didn't crash into him.

'Dad told me not to hug you when you came home.' Sam replied, subconsciously rubbing his arm.

'Screw that.' Dean pulled his brother into a hug. The pain was worth it seeming as he was the one who had caused all of this. Put Sam in danger and made him worry about the well being of his older brother; it was not Sam's job to worry about any of this. 'I am so glad you are okay, Sam. I am so sorry that you got caught in the first place. I should have been paying attention.'

'How many times to I have to tell you? We have to look out for each other, Dean. And besides, I wasn't paying attention either.' 

'But Sammy, I –'

' Enough, Dean! Now go to bed before Bobby comes up and tells us off for being 'idjits'. Besides Dad has asked me to help him with something before going to sleep.' The impression of Bobby was uncanny. Just as Sam had finished talking Bobby entered the room with a raised eyebrow. 'Sorry Uncle Bobby, I was just leaving.' With one last big grin at Dean, Sam left the room and ran down the stairs to meet with John.

_What does Dad need Sam for? Why doesn't he need me?_ He inadvertently stated pressing into his arm wound at these thoughts, he felt that the pain would bring him away from the guilt and the loneliness he was feeling.

'You alright, son? You've made yourself bleed.' Bobby's tone was cautious, staring at Dean's arm then back to his face. Worry clear on his face.

Dean slowly looked to his arm and quickly released his grip when the realisation kicked in. _Crap. Why did I do that? That really frickin hurt._ 'Oh no. Yeah, I'm fine; it just hurts a bit. No actually wait, that's stupid. I'm fine, I'm gonna go to bed now.'

'Ya know, yer allowed to feel pain, boy. It's not illegal.' He stared at Dean for a few seconds before turning to leave. 'Do yer need anything? Painkillers?'

'No I am fine, Thank you Bobby' _Screw it_ Dean gave Bobby a quick hug before turning round and getting into bed.

'You might need some pyjama’s, ya idjit' he winked at Dean before leaving the room. Dean kicked off his covers and got changed into some pyjama's and jumping back into bed. He landed harder on the mattress than he intended. 

He was restless. He could hear Bobby snoring and John and Sam talking downstairs. Organising a hunt. Without him. _I really am stupid. Dad doesn't want me to help any more. I have failed as a son._ He continued to press down hard on his arm, blood seeping through the bandages. He did this until he finally fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter after this one will take place in the 'present'. John is more violent in this chapter so trigger warning. Also Dean has a panic attacks, which I believe he would have suffered from in his childhood. Especially this childhood. Sorry for the feels.

_Why do I feel so weak? And dizzy?_

Dean pulled back the covers. Blood everywhere. He could feel the panic starting to rise up inside him. 'BOBBY' He yelled, trying to get someone to come up the stairs. Dean grabbed hold of the soaking bandage to try and stop some of the bleeding; he could already feel himself starting to lose consciousness.

No words where needed, as soon as Bobby entered the room he raced towards Dean and carried him down the stairs. There was clear alarm evident in his features. He placed Dean on the sofa and ran to the kitchen to get more gauze. 'Keep pressure on that wound, son.' _Breathe. Calm down. Don't lose control. Make it stop._ 'Dean. Yer need to slow your breathing, Kid. It's gonna be alright!' Bobby came back to Dean's side and slowly removed the sodden bandage. 'Yer see, worst is over. It's pretty much stopped bleeding now.' He placed the new gauze over the wound and secured it in place. 

Dean's breathing was rising rapidly, blanching into a full blown panic attack. _Dammit. Breathe. Stop. I need. Calm. Oh my God. HELP ME. I can't. Escape. Run away._ Dean began to shake as his breathing started to regulate. 'Sorry' Dean mumbled.

'What're you apologising for?'

'Over-reacting? Being silly? Being weak' Dean mumbled looking down at his lap.

'Well now yer being silly! I'd be pretty freaked too if I had woken up ter that much blood! And I know you have been having these attacks for a while now, so don't pretend that this is a one time deal.' Bobby raised his eyebrows at Dean, it was a concerned fatherly gaze that he was not overly used to. He took a deep breath. 'Do. Erm. Do you wanna talk about, about it?'

'Well. I just – '

'Bobby we are back!' Sam came bounding into the room, covered in mud. 'Dad thought he had a lead, but when we lost track we decided to play soccer instead!' Sam wasn't able to keep the grin off of his face and Dean, the mortified look off of his.

'Sammy! Straight into the shower! You are filthy! But you played well son, I am proud of you!' Each word from Johns mouth pierced Dean with unwanted resentment towards his younger brother. 'Quickly now, I need one too!'

Both father and son ran up the stairs to get cleaned up. Dean just sat staring into nothingness. _'I'm proud of you'. He has never said that to me. He probably never will. Look at yourself Dean! You're a mess. Worthless._

'Hey Bobby. I'm, er, going to take a walk. Get some fresh air.' He forced a smile that came across as more of a grimace.

'Here take this' He slapped some money into Deans still shaking hands. 'Go get yerself some candy or summat.'

He grabbed one of Bobby's jackets and shoved his boots on. As soon as he left the house he felt instant relief; the cold air making everything that little bit clearer. He walked with relative ease to the store, enjoying being away from reality for a while. He came across a store and saw that they were selling some pie slices. _Why the hell not?_

He sat on the grass outside of the store to eat his pie and read a comic. _I wish I was a hero. Everything turns out alright in the end. You get the girl. You save the day. People love you._ It wasn't until he heard people tutting and talking about him loudly that he realised he was still in his pyjamas. _You're an idiot, Dean. Pyjamas and Bobby's scruffiest coat. You probably look homeless._

Once he reached Bobby's house he pulled open the door, not prepared for what was on the other side.

' WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, DEAN?' John yelled, red in the face and spit flying.

'I- I just went for a walk. I told Bobby I was going. I- I just. I needed some fresh air.' Dean stuttered, his heart racing. _I forgot to tell Dad. I messed up._

'Bobby is not your father. I am. You report to me. Do you hear me?' John stared at him for a few intense seconds, they felt like hours to Dean. With no reply John yelled 'I SAID DO YOU HEAR ME?'

'Y-yes, sir'

Dean walked around John to try and get to the sofa. He gave his father a wide berth, keeping his head down; eyes on the floor. John grabbed Dean's upper arm and turned his son to face him. He snatched his face to make Dean look him in the eye. 'I wasn't finished, Dean. This is important!' He pushed Dean harder than intended in the chest, causing him to fall over the coffee table and smash his head on the sofa. The shove re-opened the wound and caused panic to flare inside Dean again. He stared wide-eyed up at his father anticipating his next move.

Bobby ran in through the back door after hearing a crash. It didn't take him long to piece together what had happened. The blood appearing on Deans pyjama shirt, him being on the floor; legs sprawled over the coffee table and John staring at his hands in disbelief. Sam came running down the stairs, he had been oblivious to the situation until the crash had awoken him.

'Sammy, come here boy. I wanna show you something outside.' Bobby quickly wheeled Sam out of the room and away from the violence. He wished he could have gotten to Dean first, but he knew that Sam would have gotten involved and ended up injured. He had to save Sam he was only small. He would come back for Dean.

The awkward silence that ensued seemed to last forever in Deans eyes. The fall had dazed him, he could only watch his father and hope for the best. It didn't take long for John to snap out of it.

'Son, I – '

He went to help Dean up, but seeing his own son flinch at his movement had awoken something in him. He grabbed Dean by the arm and hauled him up. He began to drag him up the stairs, Dean struggling to get away. Once they had reached the bedroom, Dean was flung inside, not too gently. The door was slammed shut, John on the outside. He locked the door. 'Now. You are going to stay in there until you recover. I only want what's best for you. I want you to be safe'.

Dean heard John abuse the wall and the furniture on his way back down the stairs. He didn't have to worry about Sammy, he was with Bobby. Guilt. Anger. Dismay. Upset. Back to guilt. 

'Dad! Come back! Dad please! I'm sorry! Let me out! Please!' Dean doesn't beg often or loudly, but he found himself shouting these words and pounding at the door. His cries fell on deaf ears or at least uninterested ones. _I want this feeling to go away. Please help me. Mom? Why do I feel like this? Why won't it leave? Please Mom, he didn't treat me like this until he became obsessed with what killed you? I miss you!_ Tears started to fall and his breathing became heavier. It was at this moment that he discovered his knife on the desk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait between chapters, I had a university deadline. This chapter takes place in the present, there is not a determined season this takes place in. Just it is definitely after season 4. 
> 
> Same warnings, this is a fic about self harm. Please don't read if you find it triggering. If you are feeling low, please talk to someone to help you :) I am happy to help.

Present day

 _Well done, Dean. You've gone and gotten yourself locked in a closet. Bravo! True genius, Dad would be proud._

During a hunt with his brother, Sam, Dean had managed to get locked in a closet. Vamp's were onto them as soon as they had infiltrated the nest, which was an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. _Of course it would be in the middle of nowhere, it's like it's freaking Scooby Doo!_. He had managed to get trapped in there when he chased after a fang, splitting up from Sam and getting pushed from behind. _Smooth._ A chest of drawers was pushed up against the door, trapping Dean inside.

He stood with his forehead resting upon the door, he had worn himself out from trying to break the door open. Subconsciously, he began to rub his arm. There were no longer any scars since his return from Hell, in a way he missed them. The unwanted panic started to rise inside of Dean and the only coping mechanism he had was becoming more and more tempting. He drew his blade across the inside of his arm, not particularly deep. But it was enough. Enough to release some feeling.

The thought of being locked in a room was not one that Dean enjoyed; especially being trapped alone. 

'Hello, Dean.'

The blue eyed Angel had appeared, very close to him. There was ideally only room for one inside such a small space. Dean turned around and could feel his breath on his face. It was fairly dark inside this temporary prison.

'Cas? What're you doing here?'

'I heard you pray for me'

'I didn't pray for you!'

'But I hear you, Dean. “Please, I don't want to be alone. Someone let me out! Please, I can't be locked away again.” I am here to – Dean, you are hurt.'

He suddenly became aware of the blood pouring down his arm and the pinching pain to go with it. 'I – erm – I must have caught my arm with my knife.'

Cas reached out for Dean's arm, causing him to flinch. He tried to move away but his back was against the door. The Angel pulled Dean's arm towards him and examined the cut. 'Why did you do this Dean?' He brushed his hand over the wound to heal it.

'Didn't I just say that I –'

'Don't lie to me.'

Their faces were merely an inch apart now, both staring into each other's eyes. Dean's gave lowered, lingering on the Angel's lips for a second, then back up to his eyes. 'Erm, Cas? If you came to rescue me, wouldn't it have been better for you to appear on the other side of the door?'  
Cas stared at Dean a few seconds longer, squinting slightly. With a movement of his hand the chest of drawers had moved out of the way. He leaned forward, towards Dean and opened the door. Freeing them both. 

'Uh What is going on?'

'Hello, Sam. Your brother seemed to be in sticky situation and I came to answer his prayers.'

 _Why the hell did he have to phrase it like that? This idiot with his stupidly blue eyes and his stupid trenchcoat_ 'A bloody Vamp locked me in here after we split up' Dean said turning to his brother.

Sam looked at him, raising an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between his older brother and Cas. 'Right, of course.'

'Bitch'

'Jerk'

'We should probably vacate this house' Cas said cryptically, staring out of the window, the look of confusion on his face. 'NOW'

He slapped the two brothers on the back and suddenly they were in the Impala. Both Winchesters had a confused air about them as they look to the back seat and find it vacant. 

'Cas!' Dean yelled. _Where the hell is that bloody Angel?_ He reached towards the door handle only to have his arm pulled back by Sam. 'What the hell? We have to go get him!'

'Dean, think! He obviously zapped us here for a reason and I –'

**BOOM**

There was a massive explosion of white light and a high pitch screech ringing through the air. Everything seemed to move in slow-motion. Dean rushed out the car screaming Cas's name, Sam in quick pursuit after him calling after his brother. The house was in flame, heat burning through the atmosphere. 

'DEAN! Dean! Come on! We need to get out of here!' Sam yelled, the explosion still fresh in their ears. He pulled at his brother to get him to return to the Impala. 'Dean, there is nothing we can do! He is a frickin Angel, he would have survived! And even if he didn't, what could we do? We are only human!'

'We can't just – I need to – We can't leave! Not until I know he isn't dead! He would do the same for us.'

'You're right, he would. In fact he did, he saved us so lets high-tail it out of here.'

Sam managed to pull Dean back to the car and drive them towards Bobby's. When the pulled up outside the house, Dean charged his way up the stairs and shut himself away.

'Dean! Come on! Stop this!' Sam banged on the locked bedroom door. 'Talk to me! Staying in there won't solve anything'

_Of course it won't solve anything you dick. I just need to be alone, I need to let this sink in. I killed Cas. He is dead now because of me, because he came to save me. God, Dean you are so pathetic!_

'Dean!'

'Alright, Sammy enough! This is my fault, just leave me alone for a bit' Dean said walking over to the desk in what could be called his room in Bobby's house. There were scissors lying on it's surface, it was tempting. He pushed himself away and punched the wall. He punched so hard that his knuckles began to bleed. He yelled, hoping that is would make all the pain escape.

'Cas, I am so sorry man. It's all my fault' he whispered to himself.

'I wouldn't say that' came an all too familiar voice.

_It can't be_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay in an update! I have had so much uni work to do that I lost track of this fic and have had to start it again! Usual warnings apply, this chapter is set in the past and has Dean self harming.

_Why does this make me feel better?_

Dean drew his knife across his thigh; it was the only part of his body that was free from the werewolf cuts. He could still hear his father trashing Bobby’s house and shouting obscenities at both nothing and everything. _Maybe I could leave this all? Dad clearly prefers Sam to me anyway. Bobby will be free of me. I am a burden on everyone._

Dean crossed to his bed and reached for the photo of his mother from under his pillow. _I miss you Mom, I wish you were still here. You made everything better._ Tears started to fall down his cheeks; his bottom lip quivering. He lay on his bed face down, hugging the photo of his mother and trying to imagine her hugging him in return. _She wouldn’t want this for me. I could run away, it would have the same effect but I’d still be alive._

He located his backpack and started throwing the bare minimum inside it; leaving the picture of his mother til last. Her smiling face gave him the last little bit of reassurance he needed. It had gone eerily quiet.

_Has he stopped? Shit what do I do?_

Dean paused and listened intently for any signs of his father. He could hear footsteps on the staircase. _It’s now or never._ Dean looked to the window and started to pry it open. 

John had reached the door now and was failing to get the key into the lock. _Drunk_ Dean thought with a roll of his eyes. He perched on the window’s ledge and had to gauge how to jump without hurting himself too much. He lowered himself down; he was hanging onto the window with just his fingertips.

 _Brilliant plan Dean, top-notch!_ With a deep inhale he relinquished his grip on the window. _HOLY FUCKING SHIT. Jesus Christ! That fucking kills! Right Dad will probably have gotten the door open so I need to move quickly!_ After a quick test of his limbs he could tell that nothing was too seriously injured, he made a break for it towards the main road. 

_Where now? I really needed to think this through more. I can’t walk back now, Dad would be so mad._

Dean headed towards the town; he should be able to get a bus or -- _Money! You absolute idiot! Looks like I am walking to wherever it is I am going._

As he reached the centre of the town he realised how hungry he was. He could shoplift; he had gotten pretty good at it. He headed towards the nearest shop and waited for a family to walk inside and quickly walked in amongst them. Dean headed towards the isle with the candy in it before realising this wasn't just a job to get Sammy and himself a treat whilst their father was hunting, he needed real food. 

Whilst he was looking for what counted as proper food, Dean lost track of the family he followed in; they had left and the store was now empty aside from the shopkeeper.

‘Can I help you?’

_Crap_

‘I'm just here with my family, I was sent to get the bread whilst they—‘

‘Look here son, I know that family, and they come here every weekend. I know for a fact that you are not with them. Don’t make me call the cops.’ The shopkeeper held his hand out expectantly for Dean to hand back anything he had taken.

Dean pulled the bread out from his backpack and gave a convincingly sincere apology to the owner of the store and walked out. With a quick glance behind him, he could see the shopkeeper on the phone and Dean wasn’t going to bet that it was a call to check in on family. He started to run for it.

He kept running til he had to physically stop. _Sweet Jesus I am in pain._ Dean could see a few spots of blood appearing in various places on his clothing. 

_Shit_

It had been a few hours since his less than successful runaway and he had not gotten very far. He was now in the toilets of a café changing his bandages. As he was about to exit the men’s he heard a very familiar voice at the bar.

‘Have you seen this boy? He’s my son, he ran away after we had a small argument this morning.’

_A ‘small’ argument?! I’d hate to see what a big argument is!_

‘Why yessir I just saw him go into the toilets, he seemed awfully upset; the poor dear’

‘Thank you so much!’

 _Ah balls! Looks like it is out the window for the second time today_

Dean headed towards the window and he just about managed to squeeze through before John entered. Dean ran around to the front of the building and – 

**Smack**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in the present. Enjoy!

_It can’t be_

‘Sorry to hear about your boyfriend, I truly am’ 

‘Go to hell, Crowley’

‘Hello! That’s where I come from, I quiet enjoy it actually’

‘What the fuck do you want? Leave me alone’ _why the hell is he here? Can’t anyone just leave me alone? For two seconds?!_

Crowley had crossed over to Dean’s desk, picking up various objects and inspecting them curiously. ‘Now, Dean. I have your best interests at heart here! So quick to judge aren’t you?’

 _Best interests? Yeah right, Dick._ Dean eyed Crowley suspiciously, not taking any care to leave out his distaste in the demon being in his room. ‘You still haven’t said why you are here. What is it exactly that you want? I don’t mean to be ru – Actually, yes I do. Either say what you want or get the fuck out.’ 

There was no anger in his voice, just tiredness. He was completely done with today, he wanted to just sleep. 

‘Well… I can’t help but notice how sad you are about dear old blue eyes. So I came here with a deal.’

_A deal?! Can I bring back Cas? Can I actually do something right for once?_

‘I’ll do it! Whatever it is, I’ll do it if it means Cas comes back’

‘Down, Boy! You sure you want to accept the terms when you don’t know what they are? Didn’t your father teach yo—ohh awkward. Sorry.’

Crowley had taken a seat at Dean’s desk, crossing his legs in wait for Dean’s response. Dean was staring at the floor, his brows knitted together in thought. _Surely whatever these terms are, they can’t be as bad as having lost Cas? Should I talk to Sam? No. You are the older brother; you need to deal with this alone. Could I find a way out of this deal in the future? I guess it depends on what the bastard wants. Ah screw it!_

‘Name your terms.’ Dean didn’t look up from the floor; the words came so softly; they were barely there at all.

‘Alright’ Crowley clapped his hands together and another demon appeared, holding what seemed to be a contract and a bottle of scotch. The summoned demon placed the bottle of scotch behind Crowley, on the desk, and handed the contract to him. ‘You forgot the glasses, you absolute idiot’

The demon disappeared and was re-summoned in a matter of seconds, this time with two glasses. He placed the forgotten glasses next to the alcohol and remained at Crowley’s side.

‘Now, let’s get down to business. Firstly, I would like to explain how this contract will work. I personally wa –‘Crowley slowly turned towards the demon, who has remained beside him, a loathsome expression etched across his face. ‘Leave’ he shouted, with a slight shake of his head.

‘Honestly’ he exclaimed, nodding towards the vacated space beside him. ‘You can’t get the staff these days.’

‘Can you just hurry this up? Before I change mind.’

‘Dean. This is a one-time deal. There is no changing it, or backing out or changing your tiny little mind! You break any part of this contract, and then it’ll be goodbye angel face.’ There was no hiding the delight in Crowley’s voice.

The Demon King handed the contract to Dean to read through, whilst he poured out a good measure of Scotch for them to drink. 

_What the hell?!_

There was a distinct smirk on Crowley’s face as he went to take a sip of his drink. _This is sick! He can’t be serious?_

‘So let me get this straight?! You want me to tape myself cutting? Why the heck would you want this? This doesn't make any sense!’

‘Read on, Deano.’

_In addition to the videos you must attend a demon fighting match once a night every week. These fights are to the death, no weapons are allowed to be taken into the arena, but whatever is found in the fight may be used._

‘These fights are a form of entertainment for me and the other demons. It is getting boring with it being demon on demon. I thought it may be the time to introduce fresh human meat into the equation.’ 

‘You want me to kick the shit out of some demons? Once a week? Dude, I do that nearly every day!’

‘You won’t seem so cocky when you actually start these fights; Demons are very limited outside of hell. Now do we have an agreement?’ 

‘Cas won’t know about this, will he?’

‘Not if you don’t want him too. Be sure to keep this from your nosey brother as well. I am not dealing with him trying to get you out of this. If he even mentions this deal to me, it’s finished. You will be in my custody, along with Castiel.’

‘Wait hang on. So if these are the conditions, does that mean I get to keep my soul?’

‘Of course, you are so broken inside that it is not of much use to me. Besides, should you die in one of the fights, your soul will be lost down with me anyway.’

‘Alright.’

‘Alright?’

‘Alright! I’ll do it!’

Crowley shoves a pen into Deans slightly shaking hands and slides his glass towards him. ‘Right. Down that, then sign that, because believe me it hurts like a bitch.’

 _Fuck! He wasn't kidding._ A stabbing sensation began in Dean’s chest, he clutched at his t-shirt, with hopes it would dull the pain. The sensation grew stronger, bringing Dean onto his knees.

‘What have you done? Why does this hurt so much?’

‘It tends to hurt more when it isn't dealing in souls. This contract is a blood contract. You’ll probably pass out soon. Anyway, it was a pleasure doing business with you. Here is what you asked for.’ With a click of his fingers Crowley disappeared. Dean could barely see through the pain, he could barely see Cas at the opposite side of the room. 

‘Dean!’


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry about the delay, its been a year!! Thank you so much to every one that has read this, commented and left Kudos. It means so much to me! Here is another chapter, it is set in the past. Usual triggers apply.

Dean had run straight into a pair of familiar legs, and had fallen ever so gracefully on his behind.

A strong hand pulled him up and straight into a hug. 'I'm sorry yer felt the need to run, boy.' Bobby;s hand smoothed over Deans hair before the two of them separated.

Although he was relieved to run, literally, into Bobby, Deans eyes grew wide with Panic. He tried to run but Bobby grabbed hold of his waist. His hold on Dean was gentle, he clearly didn't want to cause the boy anymore hurt.

'Bobby, please. Please, let me go, I ne –'

'No Dean, stay still a minute. I wont let him hurt you, son.'

Involuntary tears swam in Deans eyes, he blinked them back,still struggling in Bobby's hold. He couldn't bring himself to look in his eyes.

I need to get away. Before Dad sees. I can't stand to see him hate me anymore 

The tightness in Dean's chest grew until he could no longer stand it. His breathing was erratic and uncontrollable. _Not again. I hate being so weak. I can't do this anymore. HELP. I need help. I need to get out of here before –_

Bobby pulled the boy into a hug as Dean tried to get a hold on his breathing. The fatherly embrace seemed to calm him slightly. Bobby was gently swaying and hushing Dean.

John emerged from the door of the cafe. 'I think he jumped out of the window. Where should we –'

Bobby stood up and turned to face John, shielding Dean from his Father.

John raced forward. 'You found him!'

'Well, technically, he found me' Bobby also took a step forward, to stop John moving any closer. 

'Singer, move so I can hug my son.'

Bobby remained stationary, moving only to cross his arms. Dean was coming back under control from his panic attack.

;Why is he crying? I raised him better than this. Singer, this is your doing.' John has moved closer to Bobby, jabbing a finger at his chest.

'Actually, Winchester' Bobby's words were laced with venom. 'I think you'll find that the fault may lie a little closer to home.'

The exchange between his father and father figure had made Dean look up. 

'Now you listen here, I –'

'Dad, Please. Please, don't'

Dean moved to stand between the two men, the stench of alcohol coming from John was almost unbearable.

'I kinda just want to go home.' He looked up at Bobby, a plea in his eyes.

Bobby clapped him on the shoulder. 'course, son.' He led them all back to the car. The drive back was suffocating.

'Dean, you head on inside, son. I just want a quick word with yer Dad.'

Dean nodded and silently made his way towards the house. _Great, I can't even run away correctly._

He was barely inside the house when he heard the slamming of the car doors and the heavy footfalls upon the gravel. Deans heartbeat quickened as he hastily made his way further into the house. However, John quickly caught up with him.

He grabbed the top of Deans arm, slightly gentler than usual, and guided him upstairs.

'Out.' He barked at Sam as they entered Dean's room. 'Now, Sam'

The look in Sam's eyes spoke a thousand words to Dean as they passed. 

John pulled Dean into a crushing embrace and sobbed on his sons shoulder.

'I'm so sorry, son. I am. I was so worried about you. Why do you have to make me worry like that?' Tears were falling fast down Johns haggard face as he pulled away to look at his son. 'I've lost your Mother, I don't want to loose you too. Why did you do it? Why, Dean?

Guilt spread through Dean, burning its way to his core. He looked away from his father, he couldn't bear to look at the tears he had caused.

'I didn't want to be a burden on you anymore' Dean said, his voice barely audible.

John turned away from Dean and walked towards the window. He placed his hands on the desk and bent his head in contemplation. 

Dean tried to reach out to his father but thought better of it. After all, his Dad still had alcohol in his system.

The silence in the room was deafening. Dean didn't know what to do.

'Erm, Dad'

John breathed out, slowly, his hands clenched. Dean could tell he was trying to keep his anger under control. He reached out and pulled the window closed, hard. He locked it and pocketed the key. Dean watched in silent horror, this silent anger was new with John and he didn't know how to gauge it. 

'I didn't want – I can't stand for – '

His father was struggling to find the correct words, his breathing was getting faster, yet deeper as he tried to focus his thoughts. But instead of using any words at all, he walked out of the room. He slammed the door and locked it. _No! This can't happen again. Please, No._

'DAD! Please! Please don't.' Dean ran to the door, banging his fist against it as hard as he dared, not bothering to keep his emotions in check.

'You can't. Dad, I don't like it. Please. I can't breathe. I can't –' Dean sobbed, panic and fear had set in. Every word hurt as he fought against the tightness in his chest. 'Bobby, Bobby, please?'

Dean slid to the floor, shaking, and out of breath. _Maybe Bobby took Sam out of the house? I hope he did, I hope he didn't have to hear this. He didn't mind his father treating him this way if he treated Sammy right._

As he started to calm down, he felt the numbness spread through him. He stood up and went for the scissors on his desk. Dean achingly made his way towards his bed.

He just laid there, detached from the world, unfeeling. He clutched the closed pair of scissors in his still shaking hands. In a way he felt a rush, holding the scissors, but not using them. He stayed this way for at least an hour before he drifted off.

'It's ok, Dean' This voice was distant, angelic, and muffled. Yet it felt safe, it felt like home.


End file.
